Despite the fact that it's definitely not Trudy's fault that she's blind (and possibly concerned), Patrice rolls his eyes, slowly sitting back on his heels. He looks around, one hand still gripping his own mask a little tightly.

"It's just the four of us now. Patrice and..." He squints, thinking. "Atlas too. Somewhere with bowling alley crap. Do you normally sleep with your wand, Xenia?" He pauses, frowning as he realizes something and pulls a book from his pocket. "...I don't sleep with my journal, though, and I've got that."